After four years of playing around at USC, I returned home to Hawaii for graduate school. Three months deep into the semester, I had to call a timeout. I sent a text out to the boys requesting a board meeting. Needless to say, all duly obliged. Tony Aloha showed up first with a case of Kona Brews, a few lippers, and a round of one-liners. Tony Aloha ladies and gentlemen. Kirkles and Raw Dog Paul showed up shortly after and just before sundown. They brought the fun pants.
I forgot to mention exactly where home was. Some call my backyard the world’s biggest saltwater pool. Others say something about a playground, and more will mention paradise. I live on the windward side of Oahu, where the ocean, beaches, and mountains make it not only the most beautiful side of the island, but one of the most beautiful places in the world. I live on the beach, in the Crescent of Content. This is where the morning sun rises just beyond the two small yet iconic islands. About a mile off the coast of Oahu, these twin islands greet me everyday, reminding me why it’s okay to be living with your parents at twenty-three.
As I was saying, the board convened by the seawall overlooking the Mokuluas, libations in hand. The sun slowly withdrew its presence, and the meeting commenced as any other proper meeting. After a little cooler talk and an hour of minutes, we got underway. “Gentlemen,” I said, “let’s talk about the itch.” Aloha, as always, looked nervous and confused. Paul saw this and comforted, “your cool T, I didn’t tell them about the chubby redhead”. This was sufficient to quell Tony’s concern. But that was just Tony Aloha, ladies and gentlemen. Anyways, the itch had to to with my existential anxiety and what we were going to do in life.
“To always chase the moments that beat the dogged day,” professed Big T, “and run a burrito wagon.” Kirkles wanted our friendships to sustain and Paul wanted to sail around the world. Just then, a biggie/the xx mashup pulsated through the bose, and changed forever. “Fuck it,” I shouted, “lets just do it all.” At that, we all leaned back for a second, staring into the starry sky. The scene reflected off our eyes’ sheen as we soaked it all in.
“I mean, we live in the most epic place on earth, we fish, surf, sail, hike, and are surrounded by beautiful friends and family,” I explained. Kirk chimed in, “and we party”. Reflective and serious, Tony followed, “yeah, and we’re real good at it”. And we really were.
While partying at a sandbar (think natural oceanic formation) in the middle of a bay in the pacific, a visitor from the continental US observed Tony Aloha opening one beer with a second beer. Needless to say, the visitor was amazed. Not because the act of using one bottle to open another is exceedingly difficult, but because of the symbolism represented in the opening of beer with more beer. Times was not hard.
And this was our life in the Crescent of Content.
Just to be clear, the Crescent isn’t all play and no work. It’s just all fun. The general consensus we reached was to simply get our shit done and ball out the rest of our lives. Why couldn’t we be sailing around the south pacific with a boat full of friends, laughing, surfing, and living a dream in ten years? We were determined to combine what we loved doing with what you gotta do to pay the old mortgage.
Our youth is not to be wasted while we’re young, for we are Crescent Boys.
The Crescent of Content 